


scarves of red tied 'round their throats

by spock



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Barebacking, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Roman Josi</b> <i>@rjosi90</i><br/>Told everyone i lost a bet. But i was always dreaming about wearing a weber jersey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scarves of red tied 'round their throats

**Author's Note:**

> for a [prompt](http://thesinbin.dreamwidth.org/1008.html?thread=142320#cmt142320) at the kink meme that said:
>
>> _partially clothed sex; They have sex while Josi is wearing Weber's Olympics jersey._
> 
> [here](https://twitter.com/rjosi90/status/440601259348078592) is roman's tweet of himself in shea's sweater, god bless him.

Shea has finally — _finally_ — slid into him, given Roman what he wants. He gives a few shallow thrusts before all of a sudden coming to a stop and pulling out, drawing an agonized groan from Roman. When Roman asks Shea just what the fuck he thinks he's doing, Shea's response is a request for him to sit up a little, forcing Roman to get his arms out of the Team Canada jersey Roman's wearing, twisting and turning the sweater around until the leaf is on Roman's back and _Weber_ is emblazoned across Roman's collarbones. 

Roman wishes he didn't find it every bit as hot as Shea does; Shea's ego is big enough as it is.

Shea shoves him so that he's laying down again and slips back into Roman's body, bends Roman in half, his knees parallel to his ears, a position that lets Shea drop his head down and press his face into the lettering of his own last name. Roman grabs two fistfuls of Shea's hair and rides it out, feels his hamstrings burning from the stretch. 

He's being pounded so hard that the recoil from Shea's thrusts has him bouncing up to meet Shea's dick even when he's on an out-stroke, gravity doing most of the work, letting Roman lay back and enjoy the ride without putting in any real effort of his own. He focuses on the way Shea's jersey feels too rough on the sensitive skin of his sides, sticks to the sweat covering his shoulders, his scent starting to seep into the fabric, next to Shea's.

Shea shoulders his weight onto one arm so that his other is free to work Roman's cock, grip too-firm and concentrated mostly on the head, not enough and yet too much at the same time. He grinds Roman's dick into the outside of the jersey, where the fabric is its most rough, mesh catching against Roman's foreskin, tugging at it, making Roman's breath catch.

"S— _Shea_ ," Roman stutters, hips jerking, unsure if he wants to get closer to that pain or try to escape it. His thighs start twitching too, uncontrollable movements that have Roman circling his ass back onto Shea's cock while he continues to thrust into him. "Shea it hurts." Precome dribbles out of him as he moans out the word _hurt_.

Shea grunts, fucks him harder, gets Roman so that he's practically standing on his shoulders. The change in position causes the jersey shift and fall, billowing around his neck, and Roman scrambles to fold and smooth the fabric so that Shea's name is still showing.

The hand Shea's got on Roman's dick shifts lower, transitions into a full length stroke that starts from the base and ends with a pinch to the head before repeating the journey all over again. Roman's barely got enough control to remember to breath, his body a loss cause, legs taking on a mind of their own, kicking out blindly when Shea manages a particularly skilled stroke or when his dick nails his prostate just right, keeping Roman right on that edge.

"Roman I wanna see it," Shea grunts, pauses his thrusts while he's balls deep inside Roman, grinds his hips so that he gets just that much deeper, the head of his dick dragging along Roman's prostate and staying there, nonstop pressure that builds up at the base of his spine, his balls, behind his eyelids. 

Roman nods, wants to give this to Shea, but it feels too good, it's so hot, his body doesn't want it to end, the muscles in his belly tense and holding back even though Roman's ready to let go. Shea always knows what he needs, though, sees that Roman's struggling and shifts the hand that he'd been using to support his weight over to cover Roman's face, the heel digging into Roman's cheek. It forces Roman's head back, pushes him into the mattress and hitches his ass up just _that_ much higher so that Shea's able to slip in half a centimeter more and finally, it's enough for Roman to come, white droplets splattering down onto Shea's last name, branding it in the same way Shea's marked him just by making him wear the damn thing; Roman's come disappearing into the lettering, indistinguishable once it seeps into the white felt.

Shea lets go of Roman's dick but leaves the hand he's got shoved into Roman's face where it is, gaze focused on his name, sharp and focused. 

Roman opens his mouth so that Shea's pinky dips into it, sucks hard to get Shea's attention. Once he has it, has Shea looking into his eyes, sees how far gone Shea is, how close he is, Roman bites down, hard. Shea's mouth drops open and he sucks in large gasp before the air freezes in his lungs as he comes. Shea pulls out after a few pulses and finishes himself off with his hand, milking the rest of the come from his body so that he can add to Roman's mess on his jersey.


End file.
